


Worse Than The Meat Sweats

by RottenMint



Category: Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (Cartoon 2018)
Genre: Angst, Brotherly Love, Donnie let yourself be emotional around your family you beautiful purple child, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Donnie's Gifts, Raph is a great big bro, Trauma, just a lil tho, mentions of past fights/violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 11:43:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16932663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RottenMint/pseuds/RottenMint
Summary: Raph knows that the fight with Meat Sweats is affecting Donnie more than he's letting on. Now he's just gotta... Well. He's the older brother. He's gotta do something.





	Worse Than The Meat Sweats

**Author's Note:**

> Hey all! Welcome to my new obsession, ROTTMNT!! I love my boys. First attempt at writing them, please let me know how you think I did. Constructive criticism is always welcome (and if anyone knows if I used the wrong effect/affect in my summary, please let me know. I consistently mix them up). 
> 
> Please enjoy!

Raph stands in the doorway of Donnie’s lab. Donnie hasn’t noticed yet- too absorbed in whatever he’s working on. That’s not unusual. Getting Donnie to budge from his projects when he’s invested in them (and when isn’t he?) is a chore in itself. But the tensed line of his shoulders, the occasional shudder of the tools in his hands, that’s not normal.

Working on his machines makes Donnie less tense, most of the time. If something keeps malfunctioning, he’ll blow a gasket or two; but a quick breather is enough to get him relaxed and back on track.

This, though? Raph knows it’s not from a malfunction. In fact, he’s pretty sure he knows the exact cause: Meat Sweats.

The phone call from Donnie had been more than unsettling. After all, who answers their brother’s call expecting to hear _panicked screaming_? And the fact that this screaming continued the whole time he, Leo, and Mikey snuck back into Meat Sweats’ kitchen? That’s bad. Raph is positive there’s more to this than Donnie let on once they’d won the fight. Donnie doesn’t ask for group hugs. He tries to duck out of them, or goes limp and complains until he’s let go.

One thing Raph knows for sure about this situation? His big brother instincts are going haywire. He needs to do _something_.

“Hey, Donnie?” The blue light radiating from around Donnie’s silhouette vanishes as soon as the words leave his lips, but not soon enough that Raph misses the way Donnie jumps and almost falls out of his chair. Whatever tools Donnie had been using are set down on his lab table, and he spins around in the chair. His goggles are still lowered over his eyes, and he only reaches up to tap the side of them- probably adjusting modes, or something- before grinning.

“Raph, what’s up?” His posture is casual, now, and that sloppy cover-up makes Raph’s concern grow.

“Uh, you’ve been in here since we got back. Me n’ Mikey n’ Leo were gonna watch some Lou Jitsu with dad. Why don’t you take a break?”

“No no, no,” Donnie says, almost before Raph finishes talking, “I’m working on some new gifts for you guys, and I’m on a roll. I’ll be out later.” At that, he swivels back around in his chair, taps his goggles again, and picks up his tools.

“But-”

“Later, Raph, c’mon.” He waves over his shoulder, and the blue light starts up again. Raph opens his mouth to argue, then sighs. He turns to leave, casting one last look at his brother, and heads for the living room.

 _Should I tell dad? Or ask Leo and Mikey for help?_ Raph dismisses the ideas. He knows getting Splinter involved will make it worse, especially if he’s wrong. Adding Leo and Mikey will make them worried, too, or cause endless teasing if he’s wrong. Raphael hopes he’s wrong, if he’s being honest. He hates when anything happens to his brothers- he’s supposed to protect them, he’s the oldest and the biggest. He hates feeling useless, like there’s nothing he can do, when something does happen.

He comes into the living room and settles on the floor next to Splinter’s chair. Mikey flops over his lap, and Leo sneakily passes him the bowl of popcorn when Splinter takes his attention off of it. As Lou Jitsu starts, Mikey pokes Raph in the cheek.

“Where’s Donnie?”

Raph swallows, looking away from his baby brother’s big eyes. “He, uh, said he was making us some new gifts. Said he’d be out later.”

“Boo,” Leo calls. “They’d better not suck like last time.” Splinter shushes them immediately, pointing at the T.V. like they haven’t seen this episode together a million times already. It’s enough to quiet Leo and Mikey, though, so Raph exhales his relief and settles in. Some space might be all Donnie needs, and in a couple hours, he’ll come out and join them, and everything will be fine.

\---

When Raph wakes up, the room dark except for the commercials playing on screen and Donnie nowhere to be seen, he thinks he might’ve been a bit optimistic. Not that a little optimism ever hurt. At some point Mikey drifted up to squish next to their dad in his chair, where they’re both sleeping. Leo’s limbs sprawl across the floor. He’s in his pyjamas, sleeping cap and all, so he definitely meant to fall asleep there.

Raph gets to his feet and stretches, listening. There aren’t any tell-tale sounds from Donnie’s lab indicating that he’s still working, but with how dark it is, it’s possible he fell asleep. _Maybe he did come down, but we were all sleeping_.

His stomach rumbles. He realizes none of them ate dinner, unless you counted a few handfuls of popcorn. He makes his way towards the kitchen, leaning against the wall and yawning. _A snack of a couple sandwiches, and then back to bed_ , Raph thinks, rubbing at his eyes to clear the sleep out of them. When he pulls his hands away, he blinks. Then blinks again.

In the darkness, Donnie stands rigid in front of the kitchen. He’s not wearing a shell or his mask or his goggles. Somehow, it make him seem smaller. His gaze is fixed on the inky blackness of kitchen’s interior, and he doesn’t move an inch as Raph steps closer.

“Donnie?” He keeps his voice quiet, not wanting to startle his brother- but that doesn’t work when Donnie stumbles back with a strangled gasp, landing flat on his butt, staring up at Raphael with wild eyes as his chest heaves.

Raphael raises his hands, placating, and chuckles a bit. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. You’re jumpy tonight.” He hopes the casual attitude will calm Donnie down. This isn’t how he wants to start what he assumes will be a very serious conversation. If he is wrong, though, Donnie will brush him off with a clipped reprimand, and Raph will offer him a sandwich in apology.

Of course, that doesn’t happen.

Donnie looks terrified, his breathing slowing a little as he climbs to his feet. “Geez, Raph,” he wheezes, “don’t do that to a guy.” Raph frowns when he makes a weak attempt at a smile, and tracks the hand he notices is holding Donnie’s bō in clenched fingers.

“Donnie, why did you bring your bō to the kitchen?” His face pales to an unhealthy shade of green, and he glances between the staff and Raphael for a few seconds. Raph wonders if he even realized he was holding it.

“Uh.” Donatello says intelligently.

“‘Uh’,” Raph mimics, then edges, “this wouldn’t have anything to do with Meat Sweats, would it?”

“What? No,” Donnie answers, too quick. His stance tightens at the name.

“Don’t gimme that. Ever since we got you outta his kitchen you-” Raph cuts himself off. “Donnie,” he begins. “Are you scared to go in the kitchen?”

Donnie stares at him for a moment, eyes widening. Then he jumps into vehement denial, so fast that Raph can barely understand what he’s saying. Raph wonders if Donnie knows he’s digging his own grave, confirming Raph’s suspicions.

Raphael feels kind of like he’s going to throw up. Donnie is spectacular at hiding his emotions, or, at least, is better at it than the rest of them. And Raphael knows from several late-night talks that got a bit more weighty than he or Donnie intended, that Donnie feels a pressure to be strong in front of his brothers- because he’s the second oldest, because he’s a softshell, because _I’ll never be as strong as you, Raph, I can’t protect them like you do, can’t protect you like you protect me_ \- and his first defence is pulling his emotions behind a wall of wit and jokes.

Those talks always make Raph ache inside. He does his best to reassure his brother, reminding him of his literal genius and incredible building skills, of all the times he’s totally saved their assess (and every time, Donnie threatens to tell Splinter that Raph swore, but he never does), yet it never seems to be enough. Donnie’s good at reassuring Raphael, soothing his self-confidence issues (something Raph brings up every time, too, to show Donnie how good he is at being there for him, for them). Raphael wishes he could be a good older brother and destroy those worries that consume Donatello whenever he’s alone or feeling left out. He can’t- can’t destroy them with a punch or take those hits with his tough shell. He can, however, be there for his little brother when he needs an older brother. Not someone to solve his problems, but someone for when he needs someone to _be there_.

Like right now.

“Donatello.” That’s enough to make Donnie stop his ramblings. Full names are typically reserved for anger or when they refer to themselves, not… whatever _this_ is.

“Donatello,” Raph begins again, “I can tell there’s something wrong. I’ve known since you called me and started screaming in my ear. You had your bō and all the gadget thingies in your shell when Meat Sweats first got you, and you didn’t get him off -”

“He was trying to eat me, kinda hard to think straight in that scenario-”

“- he tied you to a spit and managed to slather you in an _entire pound of butter_ and you still didn’t escape. That’s not like you at all. When we managed to rescue you? Not a word until me n’ the guys started using your gifts wrong. And when Meat Sweats leapt at you? You didn’t even try to get away! If I hadn’t gotten there in time-!” Raph cuts himself off, breathing heavy. He’s not sure when he started yelling. No one else has drifted towards the kitchen, though, so at least everyone is still asleep.

Donnie looks-

Donnie looks awful. His skin is paler, but around his eyes the skin is a weird ruddy-brown shade. Combined with his tensed expression, he looks like he’s about to start crying. Raph moves forwards, placing his hands on Donnie’s shoulders. He takes one more good look at Donnie’s face, then crushes him to his chest in a tight hug.

“I don’t- I’m not-” Donnie stutters, dropping his bō. Raph keeps holding him. Waiting.

Raph is eternally grateful when Donnie does not actually end up crying in his arms (his brothers crying, _really_ crying- not like when Splinter won’t let them go get pizza or when they miss Jupiter Jim reruns- freaks him out and makes him feel _terrible_ ). Donnie lets himself be held, not hugging back or protesting the touch. After a few minutes (that felt like eons), Donnie eases himself back so that he can look at Raphael. They study each other for a second, and then Donnie leans in for another fast hug followed by a mumbled thanks.

He nods, patting Donnie’s shoulder twice for emphasis. He asks, “What did you come down here for, anyway?” 

“Water.”

“Well, I’ll go first,” Raph declares, stepping into the kitchen to switch on the lights. “If there are any creepy pig mutants, I’ll beat the shit out of them for you.” Raph hears him snort. It sounds a bit wet, but more like _Donnie_.

“I’m telling dad you swore.” He says, picking up his dropped bō. Raph supposes he can live with that, as long as his little brother is okay.

**Author's Note:**

> So...... Donnie's feeling better but it's not totally resolved, hm? Maybe this will connect with something else... later.......
> 
> If you love ROTTMNT and want more content or to chat check me out on tumblr @clever-canadian-goose or on my ROTTMNT blog @donnie-fibonacci !!


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